I’m amongst the last of the wider public to have heard of Susan Boyle, since I never watch those TV reality shows promoting ephemeral formatted talents that are entirely contrived by unscrupulous producers doing business at the expenses of others. I happened to discover her while I was searching for a specific video on You Tube. I must have missed it if she made the headlines of a magazine. I don’t remember the circumstances, but I do remember my sincere emotion when she started to sing “I Dreamed a Dream” in front of an audience making fun of her and a skeptical jury that fairly apologized at the end of her performance for having been incredulous.

Susan Boyle, a very ordinary Scottish middle-age woman who comes from a modest background, is a staggering singer, whatever cynical and despicable denigrators may say about her old-fashioned look, her age, her frizzy hair. She must have suffered many mockeries in her life from those who privilege appearances and have no consideration about what lies beneath. All her life, she wanted to become a professional singer and never gave up her ambition. What a lesson for all the moaners on earth! Moreover she has a great sense of humour. She is kind and spontaneous and has millions of fans (if we believe the statistics). I hope that she will win the final competition on May 30^th. That would be a nice answer to the arrogance of the showbiz circus*.

I am totally unreceptive to anything that concerns automobiles. I barely know the names of some of the famous brands and moreover, I am unable to tell the difference between a Mercedes and a BMW, a Toyota and a Kia. I am a perfect Philistine in this field. A car for me is no more than a bodywork, and a set of four wheels. Of course it runs thanks to some intricate mechanism under a hood that sometimes needs to be serviced at an outrageously expensive price, to the good fortune of my mechanic whose expertise, obviously, can never be contested! I was therefore inclined to believe that Gran Torino was some rocky desert or some majestic river spreading out its meanders in a luxuriant prairie. I never imagined nor suspected that it might be a car. In fact the Gran Torino is not just a standard car, but a de luxe model belonging to Walt Kowalski brilliantly incarnated by Clint Eastwood (one of his greatest parts).

Walt Kowalski, an old Korean War veteran keeps a vigilant eye on his Gran Torino. It’s his pride and joy. At this stage of his life, it’s perhaps his only reason for living. His wife has just died, and his sons have become perfect strangers to him. Aren’t they ”willing” to put him in an old people’s home and put the family home up for sale? The old man is not fooled by their sudden thoughtfulness, their fake compassion, and their pitiful little schemes to get rid of him.

Walt Kowalski, after the death of his wife, cuts himself off from the world more and more. His dog is his only friend. He spends his days sitting on his terrace, with his gun always at hand, sipping beer, and cursing his neighbours and in particular his closest neighbours from the Hmong ethnic minority*. We cannot hold back a smile when Walt and the Hmong grandmother (Chee Tao), respectively sitting on their terrace for a breath of fresh air, cast side-long glances at each other and never stop mumbling curses at each other. 

The Reverend Janovich (Christopher Carley is an endearing performer) had been asked by Walt’s wife, as a last wish, to lead her husband to confess his sins. Although knowing Walt’s flaunted hostility to religion, the Reverend dares to confront the old disgruntled man who, as expected, sends him away. What would he confess to a perfect stranger, moreover a young priest knowing nothing of life? However, Reverend Janovich is far from being disheartened by a rebuff and sets his heart on his mission throughout the film. He guesses that the man he is confronting is not just an irascible and execrable old man. He doesn’t go by appearances only but feels true compassion for Walt Kowalski, and refuses to let him down. We guess that Walt Kowalski ends up feeling respect for the reverend who is brave enough to stand up to him and whose words don’t leave him totally unmoved.

Walt’s hatred of strangers is deeply rooted in the Korean war, but we understand (only at the near end of the film) that it masks a deep-hidden feeling of guilt after the dramatic killing of a young man waving a white flag in sign of surrender that Walt had noticed too late, and for which he has never been able to forgive himself. 

Walt Kowalski is xenophobic, antisocial, and asserts it defiantly. He cultivates his prejudices with an obvious delectation. However, he snatches his neighbour’s young son (Tao), a quiet teenager, from the clutches of a gang that forced Tao to steal the very coveted Gran Torino. The risky project fails and Tao, under the pressure of his family, has to work for the community under Walt’s implacable supervision, in atonement for his degrading behaviour. The veteran, against his will, becomes deeply attached to Tao and his sister Sue who succeeds little by little in taming him. He is induced to share the Hmong hospitality and traditions. He finds a substitute family among them. We understand that he is utterly wretched but more than willing to be loved and respected, despite ostentatiously denying it.

The film is the story of Walt Kowalski’s redemption. It rehabilitates many values all too often forgotten nowadays (self-respect, tolerance, refusal of submission to the law of the strongest, the importance of traditions and family, …) . The tragic end leaves us with the feeling of an “accomplished destiny”. There is no sadness in it, only hope. Changing the world is not purely utopian. President Obama doesn’t say anything else when he asserts that “Yes, we can”, does he?

We are permanently swayed between laughter and intense emotion. The dialogues are crude but delightful and stick perfectly to the characters. Bee Vang (Tao) and Ahney Her (Sue) brighten up the story with their spontaneity and attachment to their family principles.

Once more, Clint Eastwood leads us into deep reflection with this moving Gran Torino that will undeniably rank among his best films.

*Hmongs had to flee from Asia (mainly Laos) to the USA under the right of asylum.

Trailer Gran Torino

When (in the heady fumes of inebriation?) Francis Scott Fitzgerald wrote that very strange story in 1921, he probably could not imagine that it would be brilliantly adapted for the cinema some eighty-seven years later (with some slight adjustments).  The synopsis of the film directed by David Fincher is so well known that I am not going to re-write it.

Benjamin Button was described by F.S. Fitzgerald as a newborn child with a beard, looking “like a 70-year-old-man”, who apparently gets younger and younger with the passing years until returning to the foetal state (at least, if the film is not going so far, we can imagine it). A life going backwards might be a nice fantasy, but can become a nightmare when you fall in love and when your lover is heading for old age (with its  whole range of inconveniences: wrinkles, sagging and ebbing, illness) while the years weigh less and less on your shoulders. No need to live such a scenario to realize that lovers are but rarely “synchronous”. There always comes a moment when they “coincide” but it lasts the time that it lasts, “the space of an instant”. The instant is of an extreme intensity but in the end, often leaves in the heart a bitter feeling of incompletion.

Benjamin (Brad Pitt) is madly in love with Daisy (Cate Blanchett) but they are moving in opposite directions, against their will. Inevitably, they have to leave each other. When Benjamin becomes a newborn baby again, Daisy takes care of him like a real mother but Benjamin is unaware of her tenderness. It is easy to imagine what Daisy must be going through (and we suffer with her). A one way love is always a tragic misadventure.

Another point of the story is that we do not easily accept that someone may be different or terribly ugly or terribly old (the last defect being the worst nowadays). Benjamin’s mother died during her confinement and Benjamin is abandoned by his father at the door of an old people’s nursing home only because of his strange and disturbing appearance. Queenie (Taraj P. Henson) and Tizzie (Mahershalalhashbaz Ali), a kind black couple, take Benjamin in without a second thought. They are not afraid, they don’t even think that this queer white child might become a burden to them. They consider him like a godsend. The old people find that the baby has nothing to be scared of (doesn’t he look like them?) and are happy to welcome him, educate him, play with him, chat with him. Isn’t that food for thought?

Brad Pitt is perfect in his role (it’s not a surprise), totally credible (and how attractive!). As a wonderful old man, he incarnates the absolute illustration of the commonplace pretending that when a woman starts aging, a man simply matures. This is men’s privilege. Their wrinkles are not without charm, while they are our unavoidable defeat. I read somewhere that Brad Pitt’s make-up lasted 5 hours before he could start playing his role. He never showed any sign of irritation, which gives you an idea of the level of professionalism.

Cate Blanchett, a very subtle actress, is extremely sensitive and never lapses into schmaltzy sentimentality.

Taraj P. Henson and Mahershalalhashbaz Ali are touchingly lifelike and generous.

A huge budget, an exceptional shooting length and the remarkable special effects result in a moving and aesthetic film, produced by Kathleen Kennedy who certainly has no regrets having placed her trust in David Fincher’s meticulous directing.

Trailer The Curious Case of Benjamin Button